Silence
by snapesgirl1981
Summary: When Hermione is petrified in CoS Snape visits her in the infirmary. But why is he here?


**Silence**

by snapesgirl1981        

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling and others own everything regarding the Harry Potter universe. No copyright infringement intended.

Rated PG-13

Spoiler: CoS- serious spoilers but I also mention facts from OotP so please be careful

Timeline: Takes place during the second book as Hermione is petrified and in the infirmary

Summary: Got this idea in my bathroom- don't ask- and it wouldn't leave my mind. Simple, short and without any action. Snape visits Hermione in the hospital wing while she is petrified.

Note: This will in all likelihood not have a sequel but I may consider rewriting other little scenes with Snape's thoughts

He could have never said later why he went to the hospital wing in the first place and when he arrived there at one o'clock in the morning it was empty except for the victims of Slytherin's heir who were all petrified and laid motionless in various beds. For some he couldn't say he was unhappy. For example Neville Longbottom- it was a relief that he could no longer create havoc in his potion classes and blew up another cauldron- bringing him to four in total this year. Well that would have been a record- last year he had only managed to do so three times.

Cringing as he moved past another boy he couldn't recognize and to his amusement Filch's cat, Mrs Norris, he reached a bed with a rather small boy in it. Ah yes, Colin Creevy was his name. The Potter admirer. He had to admit that being spared of him and his constant camera clicking whenever Potter was around was a relief as well. He couldn't understand how somebody could worship somebody else so much for Potter had done absolutely nothing to warrant such praise. But the world was like that, wasn't it? Potter was the perfect hero even so before he came to Hogwarts he hadn't done a thing to justify that treatment, wasn't even aware of the magic world and his inheritance. And he Snape was always mistrusted by everyone except Dumbledore even so he had risked his life by spying on his former Dark Lord before his downfall. Without thinking he rubbed his left arm where a mark reminded him of rash decisions in his past. He would always pay for those, no matter how much he wanted to redeem himself.

Finally, after having reached his destination, he sat down on another bed with the latest victim and the reason why he was here at all. 

Ms Granger.

Oh yes, he should be glad that she wasn't interrupting his classes any longer and he had been at first but today that had changed. For the first time while teaching his potions class of second year Slytherins and Gryffindors nobody had answered his questions. It had stunned him and for a second he wondered why Ms Granger wasn't paying attention. After all she should be able to answer the relatively simple question without any problems.

Then he had realized that she wasn't there, that she was in the infirmary because somebody from his own house (very likely at least) had petrified her. He never was very convinced of superiority of purebloods even so he knew that he was one himself. As a teacher he had seen incapable witches or wizards who were from old pureblood families and brilliant half bloods or less. And if there was one person proving that the theory about mudbloods was indeed wrong it was the girl lying in the bed next to him.

She was a brilliant mind even so he would surely never tell her that. Enough teachers already worshipped the ground she walked on- in his opinion she needed challenges and if you told her all the time she was brilliant and top of your class where was the merit in that? She would just get lazy and sloppy and soon all her brilliance was only a memory of the past. And it was really a pleasure teaching her. Reading her assignments was delight, without any flaws and remarkably well written. Her potions were the only ones he usually was able to use later on and in class she never hesitated to answer any question no matter how difficult he made it for her.

That didn't change the fact that she was a know-it-all, a show-off and that she dared to interrupt his precious monologues with questions. She always raised her hand when he asked a rhetorical question also he was sure she knew that it wasn't meant to be answered. 

Why was he then here? She wasn't in his house and therefore not his responsibility. He rather disliked her when he had to deal with her in class and all in all the thought of Ms Granger being stunned and immobilized should have made him happy but in reality it didn't. 

Silently cursing he tried to bring order into his thoughts. If it wasn't a feeling of responsibility or even affection (he cringed inside) why was he then worried enough to come here in the middle of the night when he could be sleeping or prowling the corridors? Frowning he concentrated on the strange feeling inside- a feeling he hadn't experienced for a long time. Was it guilt? Did he feel guilty?

Getting up he marched to the window and looked outside down to the lake that was shimmering silvery in the night. Why would he feel guilty? 

_Because it is somebody from your own house._

The thought came unbidden and he tried to push it away. But to no avail. It was true. He had sincerely no idea who it was but it had to be somebody from the house of Slytherin who was responsible for that. While in general he wasn't feeling particularly upset about the fact that some students were petrified for a while he didn't want them dead. No matter if they were Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws or Gryffindors. House rivalry was one thing but you could surely take it too far. Much of his pretence of favouring his Slytherins was because he knew the former circle around Voldemort was suspicious of him and his motives Lucius Malfoy in particular thought he had changed sides after the Dark Lord's defeat. Any other behaviour than malice towards Harry Potter and his friends would mean his death verdict. And he was needed as a spy for Dumbledore's Order when Voldemort would be back again- and somehow he had never doubted that Voldemort would find a way.

Looking back at the girl whose face was partly hidden by her dark curly hair he did something he hadn't done in a very long time. He smiled. Stepping to her bed again he even brushed her hair with his hands.

Maybe that was what he needed in times like this when temptation to forget about your past seemed overwhelming. A reminder why he was in Hogwarts, with Dumbledore and why he had changed sides so many years ago. Why he had sacrificed so much in his life to the goal of redeeming himself. Why he suffered in all these years without complaining, in fact welcomed the pain as a sign that he was worthy of even breathing.

One last look confirmed that she was still covered by the thick blanket. He knew that even now she couldn't move or talk her senses were still working. He didn't want her to be cold. 

When he left the hospital wing he did so with a lighter heart than when he had arrived. His resolve was back and somehow the mark on his left arm wasn't weighing him down so much any longer. All that remained was silence as he reached his dungeons and this time he welcomed it.

A/N: Tell me what you think. I tried to keep Snape as much in character as possible. Read and review please. Btw, this was not beta read so far so please excuse any mistakes


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